Jan 1st, 1937 Today is a cold, winter day in Chang Chun. Today, I had to amputate five legs of five different men. I will never forget my patients’ responses during the surgeries. As my scalpel touched the rotting skins of their legs, my patients’ faces each portrayed different emotions that ranged from fear to denial. Dilated pupils, swears trickling down, jaws clenched... The atmosphere in the room was so raw; I will never forget it. I will also never forget what these men are sacrificing their lives for: Japan and our emperor. Indeed, these men are truly defined by their love for our country. Without Japan, they would be nothing... And their patriotism helps me learn. I should be like them. I should never question our emperor, for he has done many great deeds such as leading our nation to Westernization, making Japan the champion of Asia. Today is the day I learn that I should not only give up my leg but also my life to my country. I will never forget the meaning of sacrifice. Today is also New Years. Unlike these other unenlightened Asians, we, the Japanese, recognize the Western New Years. My friends and I decide to celebrate it. We were about thirty men strong, if not forty. What was there to do for a group of men such as us? Our best option was to be with comfort women. Although I did not take any part in it, my friends called a single Korean woman to my room. She looked like she was seventeen - definitely no older than twenty. They did things to her that were, in my eyes, even inconceivable. And all that time, that woman did not say a single word. She seemed like she was thoughtless, as if her mind and her body were separate. She was an empty shell, without any feelings or emotion. Had this woman been a friend of mine, and had I still been a medical student in Tokyo, I would have been enraged upon witnessing such sexual activities. But strangely enough, I felt nothing for this woman. She was, so-to-speak, Japanese anyways. Many other girls her age have it worse: they have to labor from day to night and many of them are starved to death. Although on the back of my mind, I think I initially felt guilty. But we were having fun. Eventually, none of my friends, neither did I, feel sympathy for this girl. Those men with their legs chopped off showed sacrifice. They literally sacrificed their blood, sweat and tears. But that girl really didn’t. That is why I felt sorry for the former, and not the latter. Consequently, I will never forget the most important thing I learnt today: how Japan is full of patriotic people willing to sacrifice, while Korea, even under Japanese rule, is not. I will never forget that I am Japanese.
Today is a cold, winter day in Chang Chun. Today, I had to amputate five legs of five different men. I will never forget my patients’ responses during the surgeries. As my scalpel touched the rotting skins of their legs, my patients’ faces each portrayed different emotions that ranged from fear to denial. Dilated pupils, swears trickling down, jaws clenched... The atmosphere in the room was so raw; I will never forget it.
I will also never forget what these men are sacrificing their lives for: Japan and our emperor. Indeed, these men are truly defined by their love for our country. Without Japan, they would be nothing... And their patriotism helps me learn. I should be like them. I should never question our emperor, for he has done many great deeds such as leading our nation to Westernization, making Japan the champion of Asia. Today is the day I learn that I should not only give up my leg but also my life to my country. I will never forget the meaning of sacrifice.
Today is also New Years. Unlike these other unenlightened Asians, we, the Japanese, recognize the Western New Years. My friends and I decide to celebrate it. We were about thirty men strong, if not forty. What was there to do for a group of men such as us? Our best option was to be with comfort women. Although I did not take any part in it, my friends called a single Korean woman to my room. She looked like she was seventeen - definitely no older than twenty. They did things to her that were, in my eyes, even inconceivable. And all that time, that woman did not say a single word. She seemed like she was thoughtless, as if her mind and her body were separate. She was an empty shell, without any feelings or emotion.
Had this woman been a friend of mine, and had I still been a medical student in Tokyo, I would have been enraged upon witnessing such sexual activities. But strangely enough, I felt nothing for this woman. She was, so-to-speak, Japanese anyways. Many other girls her age have it worse: they have to labor from day to night and many of them are starved to death. Although on the back of my mind, I think I initially felt guilty. But we were having fun. Eventually, none of my friends, neither did I, feel sympathy for this girl.
Those men with their legs chopped off showed sacrifice. They literally sacrificed their blood, sweat and tears. But that girl really didn’t. That is why I felt sorry for the former, and not the latter. Consequently, I will never forget the most important thing I learnt today: how Japan is full of patriotic people willing to sacrifice, while Korea, even under Japanese rule, is not. I will never forget that I am Japanese.